Quillaq x Yamilla x Y/N: The Maid And The Alpha

Quillaq/Harry Styles POV

A/N: Some of these chapters are the same event but from different perspectives so they don't go in a particular order. Also we are trying our best to get these chapters out so please be patient. The first quillaq POV is a flashback.

 xoxo

daddy quillaqs jingle hoes😘

Quillaq POV

I sat at the desk in my office, which my two children, Gwenyth and Beaufort, were sitting on. These little bitches, I thought to myself. That's when my beautiful wife, Yamila, who also happens to be my step sister, strode through the door.

"Come here children, daddy has to work," she said to them in her perfect sing-songy voice. Yes, Yamila is my step sister, and yes, I married her. She's just so beautiful that the moment I saw her I knew, I had to make her mine. "I'm sorry for letting our children bother you daddy waddy." She said to me, jutting out her bottom lip. "It's okay, snookums," I replied, motioning for her to leave. Just then, I received a call from one of my best business partners, Harry Styles.

"Hmmm I wonder what this is about," I mumbled.

Harry Styles POV

I sat thinking about the little ungrateful weak piece of dog water sitting upstairs above my office as I proceeded to angrily call my best business partner, Quillaq about a business deal I had for him. For years I have had to suffer with that poopy headed, apple-johned, toe licking canker blossom, and I just can't take it any longer. I grumbled simply at the thought of her as I punched in Quillaq's number and held the prehistoric, vintage 1800's phone to my ear. I didn't get an answer, so I left an annoyed message to him instead.

"Quillaq, mate. I have considered this for quite a while, and I decided that this would be the best for the both of us." I said in my toe curling British accent.

"I am deciding to sell Y/N to you, as I cannot bear the burden of having such a thing distracting my household. It is a molestation to my home, and myself, and I simply will not have her soiling my valuable popstar reputation. Please call me back when you can."

I placed the phone back down. I stared at my newest album, Let Me Love You Bath and Body Works Candle, in admiration. The photographer was quite fond of my Chadness and lovely Britishness. My unspoken rizz delighted me, but it was quickly spoiled by the reminder that I had to inform Y/N about my decision. I sighed loudly as I yelled for it to come.

"Y/N? Where are you?" I called. It felt off for me to be calling her, because I always had much better things to do than talk to it. I headed upstairs, to the tiny, 1x1 attic in a hidden corner of the house that I had to sacrifice for her. When I entered the room, I saw her orbs dart to my forehead, where I had a 28494929 billion dollar tattoo of my name, brandished on my perfect skin with the purest black ink imported from Paris just for me. I had said firmly many times that she was not to disgrace my wonderful orbs by making orb contact with me, and she had learned by now.

"Ello, Y/N." I said in my British accent.